


Sensory

by PFDiva



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Rope Bondage, Sensory Deprivation, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For their anniversary, Equius decides to surprise Dirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sensory

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is some self-indulgent drivel I wrote because I wanted it REAL bad.

Your name is Equius Zahhak, and you are a complete, blithering fool.

For some bizarre reason, you have allowed your moirail to leave you helpless on your matesprit's bed as an anniversary present.

You are more than willing to blame your acquiescence on the fact that she already had you trussed up like a Gratitude Day gobblebeast.

You will STRONGLY deny any implication that you may have been very excited to try this new thing out. Especially since in practice, you can only see black silk when you open your eyes.

I purromise I won't leave you until Dirk comes.

You trust Nepeta, but you have no way of confirming her words, now that sound-dampening earphones leave you with only physical sensation to confirm or deny the presence of another.

She doesn't respond when you say her name.

/Heat./

Something long, thin, and almost burning hot touches the bare skin of your shoulder.

Dirk?

Y

He traces the letter against your cheek, two glowing lines of heat against your skin.

This is all Nepeta's idea.

!

The shout pole against your cheek tells you, without words, that he knows.

Happy anniversary.

:)

This is a new signal, but the meaning is clear.

You've pleased him.

You can't help but smile helplessly up at where you think his face might be, and his fingers slide between your locs, gently caressing your scalp. You hum with pleasure, closing your eyes behind your blindfold and enjoying his touch.

Eventually, his warm fingers slide out of your hair, down your neck, a swath of heat that leaves you chilled in its absence. You shiver and moan as he sweeps his hand down your collarbone.

Your arms have been tied so that you are hugging your thighs to your chest, which makes it impossible for Dirk to slide his hand down your chest. He simply shifts his hand to your knee and slides it down your thigh, then up your arm to your shoulder.

These simple touches should not be undoing you this way.

But the constriction of the rope against your skin, combined with the fact that you are blindfolded as well as deafened by music that Dirk once confessed he created to arouse you, it heightens your senses, stretching your nerves taut, and making each touch an unbelievably warm, surprising pleasure.

His fingers trace a warm line down your spine, and you arch as best you can, whimpering high in your throat.

You've clearly surprised Dirk, because his fingers stop and pull away.

No.

Dirk.

Please.

He pats your shoulder reassuringly before tracing his confusion against your cheek.

?

I am quite alright. I swear. I am simply...a little overwhelmed.

Another pause.

You can almost imagine the concerned look on Dirk's face. His eyebrows would furrow over his triangular shades, full lips pursed unhappily. If he weren't wearing his sunglasses, you would be able to see the distress in his amber eyes.

Even the memory of the expression makes you want to kiss away his worries.

The two of you have done rope bondage before, experimenting with different ties and binding techniques together. You both find comfort and pleasure in being able to trust your physical well-being to another.

You have also done sensory deprivation. Usually with a blindfold and loud music in headphones, much like this, though sometimes with only one or the other. You can't deny that you find it a great deal more pleasurable than Dirk does.

Dirk is very accustomed to being in control of himself and his surroundings. The fact that you can surprise him in that state frightens him. He frequently ends up in helpless tears. You would have never repeated the experience with him on the receiving end, but once he regained control of himself, he admitted that he enjoyed the catharsis.

For you, the surprise is not so bad. You are accustomed to not being in control of anything in your life and receiving only unpleasantness for that lack of control. The knowledge that surrendering yourself can only give you pleasure is too uncommon to pass up.

But you've never done combined bondage with sensory deprivation before. You've discussed it, contemplated how you would manage safe words and communicating any issues that arose, but this is new territory for you both.

?

He draws the inquiry noodle against your face before giving the sound-dampening headphones a little wiggle.

He's asking if you want to take them off.

No! Please, don't!

He presses one finger to your lips and draws another down your cheek. You lower your voice.

I..I can handle it. It simply...It feels so exquisite.

:)

Please. Continue.

Dirk draws nonsense across your skin with his fingers. You moan. His too-hot touch skips down your back, stroking and teasing his way through the spaces between the rope crisscrossing your body. By the time his fingers reach the waistband of your shorts, you are completely undone.

Your bulge has unfurled in the only direction it can go, and lashes desperately beneath your shorts against your wet, unfulfilled nook. Your shorts are probably blue all over with your genetic material. You have the bright idea to impale yourself with your bulge, and suddenly don't care about anything else.

Dirk slides your shorts over your hips in a hurry, and you wail when he pulls your bulge out of your nook, his grip dry and firm against your dripping, thrashing bulge.

You are trembling and desperate and you WANT so badly, but his hand is so hot as it squeezes the base of your bulge, his fingers long and piercing as they reach into your well-lubricated nook, teasing the feelers there something awful.

Dirk! PLEASE!

He has no hands free to silence you this time. Instead, he drags his fingers from your nook and grabs your hip, pulling you up to your knees, burying your face in a pillow in the process. You wriggle desperately, and then he presses his hard, straight bulge into your nook.

You have no idea when he found time to strip, or if he was even dressed when he first touched you, but you truly do not care.

Your feelers wiggle, molding around his bulge as he slowly rocks his way into you, attempting to coax more genetic material out of the surface of his skin. When his hips finally meet yours, you can feel Dirk's groan reverberating through his chest against your back, echoing your own.

Your nook isn't really made for a bulge like his. Troll bulges are wider at the base, tapering into smaller points at the tip. Human bulges are wide at the tip, with uniform shafts from there. As always, it's too thick, just this side of bearable, and too hot, almost burning your feelers out of your body.

It's incredible.

Your bulge, still trapped against your thighs by his hand, desperately twists against his fingers, wrapping around his wrist. He pulls your bulge straight, and your feelers convulse against his bulge. It twitches inside you, and you can feel his breath, hot and heavy against the back of your neck.

He strokes your bulge, twining it through his fingers, squeezing the base, and you are so close. You need a bucket. You say as much and, from the way your throat strains, you suspect you say it Very Loudly.

Instead of getting you a bucket, he wraps his fingers around the base of your unbroken horn, smearing your genetic material along the sensitive band of new growth at the bottom as he rubs and strokes. At the same time, he pulls your bulge completely straight and bites your shoulderblade, between the crisscrossing ropes pressing against your skin.

The combination of sensations overwhelms you and you scream, coating his hand, the back of your legs, and your bound hands with your genetic material. Your feelers desperately wiggle against his bulge, and he rocks his hips in and out before rewarding your efforts with his own genetic material.

You can feel his chest rising and falling against your back as he breathes, but as the afterglow wears off, you slowly become aware of your feet. Or rather, the fact that you can't feel them. When you report this to Dirk, he hastily removes himself from your body and begins untying you.

In a few minutes, you are completely free of both the stained rope and your equally stained shorts, as well as your blindfold and headphones, with Dirk massaging the blood back into your legs. The pins and needles feel unpleasant for a short period, but your feet soon feel back to normal.

You feel damned good, but quite fuzzy around the edges, so you require Dirk's assistance to make it to bathroom, which he willingly gives. You clean each other up, and he leaves you on the load gaper lid while he attempts to make the bed something you two can sleep on.

By the time you manage to toddle into the bedroom, the blankets and his clothing have joined your shorts and the rope in the laundry pile. There's only a thin sheet to cover you both, but Dirk will warm you up. He complains about how cold you are when you snuggle up to him, but you feel safe ignoring the complaint when he insists on pulling you closer.

Happy anniversary.

Happy anniversary.


End file.
